Dark Duck 08: Slayer at Large
by VAPX007
Summary: Part 2 of 3 -  He stared at the black and grey outfit on the hook. It wasn't purple anymore. It hadn't been for a long while. Didn't that mean something? Black ... and dangerous. But should he never go out again?
1. The Criminal

_**Disclaimer**: __Darkwing Duck and his traditional affiliates are on Disney's payroll, not mine. _

_**Attention:** I take no responsibility for any confusion that results from a person skipping any of my chapters. _

_**Warning: **Once again, don't read on if you take exception to sporadic violence and thematic horror. For reference, if you can't handle the fight scenes in _Monkey Magic _and if Disney's _The Little Mermaid _gives you nightmares, if you would hide your eyes from most vampire movies, if _Batman Forever _was way too disturbing for words ..._

_**A/N:** Definition of 'Translocate' is to 'move' 'location'. I use this word because a 'teleport' has 'port' in it, and my vampires use mental energies and air, not portals and other fixed station equipment. No, the random word generation ability is mostly genetic. But practice does help. _

_**For sequential posterity:** this chapter carries on during Darkwing's adjustment period, selected to identify what Darkwing has to deal with in as crisp and action based manner as possible. _

_This is not just about criminal vampires, but gives a feel to exactly what Darkwing is now capable of, and that despite countless hours of training with Eider, he still must come to grips with the fact that the only difference between him and a vampire amok is his personal integrity, stubborn determination and refusal to do the wrong thing. (This should have been clear by the end of Act 1) _

**Chapter 7: The Criminal Vampire**

Darkwing wasn't sure where exactly Eider had brought him, but it didn't feel like America anymore. As he followed down the corridor, he wasn't sure if he were in a cave or a castle. Eider opened up an ancient wooden door, and he went in.

It was an enormous room and the walls were made of large stone blocks. The gaping arch windows behind Malduck did not have any glass and let in every ounce of the cool salty sea breeze.

Malduck turned around to them, considering Darkwing Duck. "Alright." She sat down on a low chair. It was something like Caesar might have sat in, except there was no one around to gather in attendance. "How did this happen?"

"F.O.W.L."

Malduck frowned. "We'd better keep watch on these people. They're fool enough; they'll undoubtedly keep trying to get their own."

"F.O.W.L. vampires?" Darkwing's stomach churned at the prospect. He'd spent so many nights indoors training with Eider, getting himself back up to fighting standard, that this had not yet occurred to him. Steelbeak would most certainly be out on bail and back to conducting more experiments by now!

Eider looked at Darkwing. "You know, we ... we stay low profile. By not making any waves, nobody has any reason to look for us, or really even believe we exist. That in turn keeps us safe."

"But when something goes wrong ..." Malduck frowned, pressing the tips of her fingers together, as she contemplated Darkwing. She continued. "You haven't seen the damage a screw loose vampire can do."

"That's why I brought him to you, master. Only really you could explain what a F.O.W.L. vampire would be like."  
Darkwing twisted about on his heel. He asked quietly, "... Er, why is that ... exactly?"  
Malduck stood up. She turned and crossed the room to the huge arch windows.

"Sir." Eider was edgy. "He needs to understand."  
"I don't frequent the behaviour, Eider."  
"But you know it. I mean, I've never met ... I just couldn't explain it." Eider was trembling. "I've been a cop my whole life, I've been on the streets night in and out, I've seen some pretty gawd-awful stuff. But I still don't know what an evil vampire would be like. I'm not in the position to teach him how to handle himself in that situation, and F.O.W.L. will make sure he'll encounter it."

Malduck sighed. "In light of F.O.W.L., I agree. You should also know how to stop a vampire."  
"Let me guess, something to do with Velcro and stakes?"  
"Now, that's the wrong point of view as I expected." Malduck crossed her arms. "You have to apply your crime fighting abilities and knowledge on a whole new level. It is unlikely that a vampire will come at you with a sword. You'll find, for yourself, you'll be less reliant on your gas gun."  
"I really don't think ..." A sword?

"A criminal is set to take the world. There is no wrong in their way of thinking. If a vampire, just add blood to the top of the list. They simply act on the primal urge for as long as they have it."  
"Yes, my imagination got me that far."

"So then, let the practical begin." She raised her arms. A wall of air, made entirely of Vespers, slammed into Darkwing. It knocked the wind out of him. "If you don't look for the signals, you will easily become their prey." She translocated in front of him, and landed a kick that sent him flying across the room.

Darkwing Duck took a sharp breath in, his ribs were on fire. He staggered to a stand, and Malduck grabbed at him, he blocked the first hand, but her other hand closed around his shoulder. Her fingers dug deep into him and she spun him around. "You lose." She murmured into his ear. She pushed him away and he turned back around.

"You are unsuspecting. Aside from Eider and me, the vampires you have encountered so far have all been civilians. They are unpracticed and mentally unfocused when forced into battle. You must be aware of your enemy's nature." She circled him. "You are a vampire. You can match everything that I can do but for one single thing."

She was behind him the next instant. He translocated two steps aside anticipating her next move and swung back. Inexplicably, she back flipped and landed upside down on the ceiling; an act which astonished Darkwing. "And in reverse of the exact same concept, you outstrip me in only one way." She dropped down to the floor beside Eider.

"I win because I, the criminal vampire, am not only prepared to kill, but am anticipating in doing it. You however are not. In your mind, a criminal should be prosecuted where possible, normally you do not kill. And if ever you do, you would never make the decision lightly." She grabbed Eider.

"I the criminal, on the other hand, just found a tasty snack. I don't care what this hapless citizen's name is; he's just dinner to me." She pushed Eider roughly away, fixing on Darkwing. "The same with his group of friends ... Heck, why not the whole busload of tourists, too? Who cares? No one can stop me because I'm a vampire. A hungry vampire. And the night is young."

She circled Darkwing again. "I've done this gig for years, decades, centuries, even. I've seen them all. I've snapped a few slayer necks in my time. I'm at the top of my game. I've got plenty of experience, I know all the tricks. I've turned a few people into vampires, but mostly I just leave corpses and jump out of the train before it derails. I'm the vampire, and you? I don't even know what you are, if you don't drink blood, you must be my dinner. How nice of you to drop by."

"Stop!" Eider nearly shouted. "Malduck." She translocated to the windows.

"Stop?" She frowned at Eider. While Darkwing had been actively listening to the psychological exposition, Eider had taken it incredibly personally. He had gone pale and was visibly shaking. "But it's a whirligig of fun. You'll find, Darkwing Duck, the psychological impact that you already inspire is quite filling." Given his previous misfortune with Eider, Darkwing wasn't terribly sure he agreed.

She sat down on the chair. "You fight well. But an experienced vampire knows psychological trickery will win them the battle. The more their experience, the more likely they will try to tease your sensibilities." She fixed her eyes on Darkwing. "If you get too close and allow someone, vampire or not to manipulate you, there will be only one of two unfortunate conclusions. Either you regret it, or you die."

_Moral/Overview: Evil never questions, never hesitates. Make sure you do._


	2. Round 1 With A Vampire Hunter

_**A/N: **Okay, for the sequencing chain, this chapter is Ducker's first run-in with Darkwing Duck where he discovers the quirks in Darkwing's regular defensive shield. _

_**A/N:** At this point, Darkwing is cautious with himself and is still learning as well._

_**A/N: **This is important to the sequence because Ducker is vital to solving the over-arching plot of Dark Duck II._

**Chapter 8: Juan Ducker, Vampire Hunter**

It had been weeks. DW had spent all that time with Eider over at Hamil Corporation offices.

Knowing he was there meant that everything was alright, and Launchpad didn't need to worry so much. But now, after spending only one night at home, DW was back at Darkwing Tower, and he was dressed in costume. This only meant one thing. And that concerned Launchpad very much.

"I don't know about all of this, DW."  
Darkwing paused, looking reserved. "I don't know either, Launchpad. But I'm compelled to try. You know me, I always have to try. And I can't stop thinking about Steelbeak. He's out there somewhere, making vampires." He shuddered, "I've got to stop him."  
"You think you'll be alright? I mean you do get pretty heated sometimes. That can't be a good thing."

Darkwing grabbed his helmet. "I can't sit around any longer, LP. Not when I know there are crimes going on. St Canard needs me." He put his fedora hat down into the sidecar's compartment. "I ... I'll go easy on them, okay?" He looked back soberly at his best friend. Launchpad forced a small smile. He didn't want to look as vexed as he felt, because he knew DW needed his support. "Are you coming?"

"No, I trust you, DW." Launchpad was resolved to keep his feet on the floor of Darkwing Tower. "I'm gonna give the ThunderQuack a proper service. Gotta treat a lady right, you know?" Darkwing nodded.  
"Okay, I'll see you later, LP." He paused. "Thanks." He started up the engine, and drove out onto the Audubon Bay Bridge's suspension cables.  
Launchpad's smile faded. "You have no idea how hard that was, ol' buddy." Launchpad went to fetch the toolkit. He figured that if DW was going to learn how to deal with this, he needed to do it alone.

"I'm very please to meet you, Megavolt, and Bushroot, too. I have read so much about you. I'm Juan Ducker."  
On the sound of the name 'Megavolt' Darkwing's ears pricked up. He swung the rat-catcher to a parking position. He turned the engine off, and listened properly.  
"Super villains? What a nice change from facing down ordinary vampires." Darkwing's feathers prickled at the word 'vampires' and he jumped off the rat-catcher. He hesitated. He needed backup.  
He pulled out his cell phone. The electrice voice spoke on the other end. "I have a violent case out here, raving about vampires. Do you think you could send someone out to ... 23 Industrial Drive?" He listened to the response. "Thanks."

"Still, just as simple to confound as my usual prey apparently!" Operating the controls of a huge claw hand, Juan Ducker grabbed the dizzy and short circuited bundle of Bushroot and Megavolt and hoisted them over the vat of boiling acid.  
"I am the terror that flaps in the night."  
"Ah ... hah! Now the party's really starting."

Darkwing Duck fired a grapple over the vat to the wiring above the claw. The rope swung around, locking the grapple hook onto the contraption. Just as the claw hand released Bushroot and Megavolt, they grabbed the dangling lifeline rope, saving them from falling into the vat.  
"You're not cooking any geese tonight, Ducker."  
"No, but I'll settle for ... a vampire!" Ducker pointed a crossbow at Darkwing.

"A crossbow? Er, for your information, this is the twenty-first century. Nowadays people tend to be more soph-..." Ducker fired, Darkwing stepped to the left in time. He turned from Ducker to check on Bushroot and Megavolt, launching another grapple from his gas gun to connect with the twists of the other rope around the mechanical claw. He pulled this second rope taut so that Bushroot and Megavolt could climb towards him.

"Well, if that's not good enough ... How about this?" Ducker pulled out a vial and pulled the stopper off.  
An overwhelming stench came up. "Yee-uck." Bushroot couldn't help saying.  
"That's revolting." Megavolt added.  
Darkwing on the other hand froze transfixed by the strange smell, his fingers stuck on the rope.

"That's it, vampire, drop the bad guys into the vat, and then you can have this." Darkwing's head cleared, and he tied the rope end tight around the railing. He picked up the edge of his cape.

"There's no such things as: abominable snowmen, aliens, banshees, Cardassians, Bigfoot. Daleks, demons, dragons, dwarfs, el chupacabra, elves, Ewoks, fairies, Ferengi. Fraggles, ghosts, ghouls, goblins, gremlins, hobbits, imps, jabberwockies, Klingons, Leprechauns. Medusas, Medusians, mermaids, Mome Raths, Ogres, Ood, sirens, Sith, Smurfs, vampires, Vulcans, warlocks. Werewolves, witches, wizards, yetis, yowies, Zontarans or zombies including of course, alien pod people."

"Denial ... must be the wrong vial?" Ducker replaced the stopper, and back stepped as Darkwing advanced on him.  
"I think you need help. Why don't you try a straight jacket on for size?" He sidestepped and tripped him up with his foot as Ducker attacked him with a handheld stake. "Oh, dear, this is really sad." Ducker picked himself up. "He's over here, boys!" Darkwing called out. "You need help, Ducker." Six men in white coats appeared and pounced on Ducker.

In a few minutes, they had him pinned down and hauled the vampire slayer into their van. "Is that all for today, mister Darkwing?"  
"Er, yes, thank you. Good work, citizen." As soon as they'd gone, Darkwing pulled out the vial from his pocket to look at it. "Very curious."  
After briefly poking his head over the edge of the vat, Megavolt climbed up over the side. Now that the white coats had gone, it was relatively safe.

"What's that you've got there, Darkwing?" Bushroot followed Megavolt up over the side, falling into a heap behind him.

Darkwing held it out for them to see. "Oh, about $4,993.75 worth on the legitimate market ..." He paused, "spoiled with an overpowering dose of the unmistakable deadly nightshade. No one would buy this. Well, maybe I could give it away, of course. But who would poison such a rare commodity? The plot thickens." He strode away, deep in thought.

"Hey?" Megavolt waved desperately at Darkwing's retreating back. "No fair, he can't just keep walking away from us. We're super villains." Megavolt pouted.  
"Yeah, well, I for one have had enough excitement for one night." Bushroot set his leafy palms on the place that would have been his hips. "And I think it's uncommonly nice that he didn't have us locked up with that wacko Ducker. He didn't even call us any nasty names, and actually, I feel pretty good about how this has turned out ..."

"Yeah, that guy was real wacko, alright." Megavolt had only heard the first half of Bushroot's statement. "He thought Darkwing was a vampire." They both blinked. "Nah." They walked out of the factory in a nervous silence.

_Moral/Overview: There's no smoke without fire._


	3. The Mulberry Bush

_**A/N: **__Okay, so apart from a whole lot of colourful mayhem and fun as is normally associated with the nursery rhyme, this chapter does two major things. First, it carries the over-arch plot forwards, necessary at this point so that time starts to become a factor. Second, by using the same brush, it also leads up to the next showdown between Darkwing and Ducker. _

_**A/N:** As my mother says, it's all fun and games, till someone loses an eye. So, without further ado, game on!_

**Chapter 9: All Around the Mulberry B****ush**

Morning

Courtesy of his bosses at F.O.W.L. headquarters, Steelbeak had posted bail two weeks ago. Also courtesy of his bosses, he was back in the laboratory. He surveyed the unconscious vampire lying trussed to the lab table.

"Good mornin', vamps. I know ya cain't hear me, but welcome to my nightmare, anyways." He straightened. Talking to unconscious vampires had become a typical departure from sanity for him.

He turned around to review the eggmen scientists. If this was job security, Steelbeak didn't like it. All this microscopic mumbo jumbo, mambo jumble, and tippity toe tap type tap ... man, this job was driving him stir crazy!

Steelbeak was bored out of his skull. What he really needed was the brain of a super sleuth to figure it out. He stopped, casting his mind back to the last time he had locked heads with such a person.  
"Conventional science!" Several eggmen jumped, and turned their heads to him.

"Sorry boys, I meant, conventional science ain't gonna do the trick." He looked at one of the scientists sitting at his keyboard, then the next, and then he took in the whole row of them. "We gotta think outside of this here brain box of yours." He pointed at their computer setup. "And I think I got an idea."

Quackerjack opened up the door to his caravan. He picked up the scattering of letters. The postman loved to throw them everywhere in the process of being attacked by Quackerjack's toy teeth. "Huh. Bill, bill ... a toy making conference?" He shook his head. "Ordinarily I'd love to cause mayhem at one of those stuffy parties. But not today, I can't." He threw it into the trash can outside his house. "With so many bills," he laughed, "I have to go rob a bank to pay for them all."

Megavolt poked his head out of the lighthouse window. "Oi, you! Can't you read the sign?" He shot a warning bolt of electricity near the post woman's feet.

"This isn't junk mail!"

"That's what they all say, now get going!" Megavolt was fuming. The last time he got a letter, it had been for his high school reunion and his plans for it had gone horribly wrong. He still wasn't ready for any more news, and if his mother really wanted to talk, she would email him like a normal person.

Negaduck looked at the invitation to a slaughterhouse party and laughed.  
"Boy, that's a good one. I dunno who Juan Ducker is, but I'm sure not interested. I mean, what sort of pathetic loser does he take me for?" He snorted. "What stupid sap would fall for such an obvious trap like that?"

Bushroot reread the card. "I don't remember entering a contest, Spike." Spike snapped, shaking his head in mirrored confusion. "Oh well, but I won!" He clutched the card to his chest. "With this prize money, why I could buy a truckload of fertilizer, and ... and I can get everybody repotted!" He raced to his kitchenette to get his trench coat and hat. Spike was jumping happily, ready to go with him. "No, no, Spike, you stay here." Bushroot wasn't sure about how they would take the look of him, let alone his gigantic mobilised Venus-fly-trap pet. "I'll be back later."

Evening

Steelbeak stepped into the experimental lab. He stepped over a body, then another. He picked his way through the entire room. There wasn't a breath left in the place.

"Will ya quiet down back there? I can hear your teeth chattering." The two eggmen security guards behind him snapped their beaks firmly shut.  
"Geez, uh, wha-what d'ya su-suppose ..."  
"Did this?" Steelbeak finished the eggman's sentence. Steelbeak looked at the empty table. The binds were ripped clear away. Tiny drops of blood were speckled everywhere. The transfusion apparatus that the boys had been using was lying demolished on the floor. "Well, it don't matter, coz he ain't here no more." He stepped over another body, getting to the second table. There was no sign of life to this eggman, either. He sighed, shaking his head, and moved in between the security guards, heading back towards the door. "Better torch the place, boys."  
"Y-yes sir." Steelbeak disappeared out the doorway.

"I'll get the stuff, John."  
"Hey, I ..." John watched his colleague belt out of the room.  
"Little weasel."  
"Huh?" He turned his head. He jumped. "Geez, we thought you were dead, Quandry." Quandry pulled his helmet off and slid off the table.  
"No, but you are." John's heart beat fast, and he raced for the doorway. He snapped the door shut in a great sigh of relief.  
"Good idea. Let's not stick around in a room that's going to blazes."  
John stuttered. "W-we should p-p-probably get out of the building as w-well."  
"I have no time for these games, John!" Quandry hissed, "I'm too hungry!"

"You're going out?" Drake stopped and turned back to his daughter, standing on the bottom step in her nightdress.  
"I've got to find Steelbeak."  
"It'll always be someone, dad, whether it's Steelbeak, or a flock of evil mutant umbrellas, or a stockbroker, or a used car salesman ..."  
"Okay!" Gosalyn stopped. "What do you suggest?" She crossed her arms.  
"Stay home. Or take me with you."  
"Gosalyn!"  
"I'm serious, dad. That Juan Ducker cleared the psych tests and ..." Drake shook his head.  
"Goodness knows how he managed to bluff his way through those."  
"And he's back on the street. And he's coming after you!"  
"I had no problems stopping him the first time."

"Da-ad! That guy kills vampires! He does it for a living. He's met you once. He probably has you completely figured out by now. He's had time." Drake sighed, knowing she was right. "I'm sorry, dad. Why can't you wait for Launchpad to come back from Duckberg? Just a few more nights, and he'll be back."

"Gosalyn, stop. You're scaring me, now." Drake hugged her. She sobbed. "Alright." He stood back up. Relief was on her face. "Hey, did you check the mail this morning?"  
"Uh, no, I forgot." Drake turned his head, he couldn't see the mailbox through the wall, but he knew it was there at the other end of the driveway. "What's wrong?"  
"I don't know, but I'm sure the answer is in the post."

In amidst the programming project for his ultimate computer configuration, Megavolt found himself suddenly out of milk. "I can't finish this without milk and cookies!" He exclaimed to himself, and quickly rushed down the steps and out of his lighthouse.

Megavolt walked down Lighthouse Drive to the smattering of cafes and boutique shops along Seaside Avenue. He breathed in, enjoying the fresh salty air. His allergies were only half as bad out here as they were when he was in the city. He neared the _7Eleven _store, but a flickering caught his attention. Between the buildings in the dark, a back door was open. This was the back drop for the green light's cry for help.

A luminary was in need of help? He raced towards the door that was reflecting the green blinking light. There was a toolbox lying nearly invisible in the alleyway and he tripped over it. He crashed headfirst into the door. Before he could get back up, someone dumped a bucket of water on top of him, making him short out. Then, before he could even tell them off, something hit his head and everything went black.

Gosalyn breathed a sigh of relief as Drake laid out the mail on the table. "Nothing." She commented happily. "No threats, no ransom demands ..." There was a whirring sound of a tiny toy motor. Drake opened the door and the little ThunderQuack message unit flew in through the doorway. Drake shut the door and it flew chaotically around. He snatched up the vase before it hit the floor. Then he jumped onto the ceiling and from above he pounced on the little machine, bringing it down to the carpet with him.

"Remind me to get you a cat toy for Christmas." Gosalyn commented cheekily. He eyed her wearily as he opened the message device and spread out the letter.  
"To Darkwing Duck." He read it out loud. "You're invited to a slaughterhouse party. You'll know where. Due regards, Juan Ducker. P.S. I found this little device in my midnight exploration of S.H.U.S.H. headquarters. But I'll figure out where you keep your coffin soon enough, so I can start delivering my messages more personally."  
"There, you see, what'd I tell you?" Gosalyn snapped.  
"Oh, what nonsense." Drake shook his head.  
"Dad, are you even listening?"  
"Yeah, but I don't have a coffin."

Gosalyn took the piece of paper and scrunched it into a ball.  
"Don't go. Call the police to handle it. Anybody, just not you. Don't give him what he wants." He ran his fingers down her loose red locks.  
"You're overreacting, sweetie." He kissed her forehead. "This won't take long." He walked over to the armchair, and hit the mouse detective's head. In a blur of blue fabric, he was gone.

"This is stupid!" Gosalyn yelled. "I'm not overreacting!" She repeated calmer. "I'm not overreacting." She paced the room. "Please, oh please come back, Darkwing Duck." She opened out the scrunched up piece of paper.  
" 'You'll know where'? I can't even follow him!"

_Moral/Overview: Don't mess with a professional._


	4. Not So Easy This Time

_**A/N: **This chapter is a single incident with the overarching purpose of digging someone's grave, metaphorically speaking. Also, it explains the why and where of things that happen next. _

_Also, this chapter is the direct sequential follow on from it's lead up "The Mulberry Bush", which both continued this subplot and carried forward the over-arch plot. _

_**A/N: **The subplot is that while DW is so caught up in the personal issues, there's no hope for him to tackle Steelbeak's plans. The two worded reason these two things run side by side in such a fashion is Juan Ducker. _

**Chapter 10: Not So Easy This Time**

"Where am I?" Megavolt woke up, tied to a meat hook, about a metre off the ground. The only light in the room shone down from directly above them. Tied back to back ... to a meat hook ... hanging a metre off the ground ... With ... who? And ... how?  
"Oh, thank goodness."  
"Bushroot?"  
"I thought you'd never wake up. We're in a slaughterhouse, I don't know where, I was unconscious when he brought me in here too."  
"Who?"

"I'm surprised." Juan Ducker stepped into the light. "I couldn't persuade your friends to come. But having met you before, I knew I could get at you two." He laughed. Boy, Megavolt hated being laughed at. To him it was far worse than being tricked, and even being foiled was half so bad.  
"Oh, you think you're so clever, don't you?" If he hadn't been shorted out, Megavolt would have definitely enjoyed toasting this guy.

"Calm down. You're not the ones I'm interested in. I'm a vampire slayer, not a blooming ringmaster." He pointed at Megavolt. "You should review your security system. I'm surprised you still have furniture." He shook his head. "Actually, I'm amazed that either of you manage to even stay alive, you're so ..." Ducker shook his head and walked away. So-oo ... what? This was yet another thing about Ducker that grated on Megavolt's nerves. Most people were polite enough to finish their insults before walking away.

Megavolt groaned as he and Bushroot were once again hanging around as bait. "I can't believe I fell for it again. How'd he catch you this time, Bushroot?"  
Bushroot blushed, turning a darker shade of chlorophyll. "Oh, the usual. Bait and switch, that sort of thing." Megavolt was hanging by the wrists, and it felt like his rubber gloves were the only things keeping his hands from being ripped off by the tight metal straps.  
"Me too." Neither of them wanted to really disclose their weaker sides that had been so easily exploited.

"I got you guys." Once more, for some inexplicable reason only the masked mallard would know, Darkwing Duck was next to them, looking to rescue them. Bushroot had the distinct impression that this was the person they were bait for. But the way Ducker had this trap set, Darkwing Duck didn't stand a chance, and at the last second, the expression on his face told Bushroot that he'd realised it. "Oopsie!" With a slice of air rushing past the duo, another mechanical device caught their supposed rescuer fair. It dumped Darkwing into a huge food processor looking unit. Bushroot looked on in surprise as the lid slotted down tightly over the top of the container.

Ducker was going to turn Darkwing into shredded meat? Bushroot considered everything that civilisation did to poor plants and vegetables, and the concept of doing it to any other life form was more or less equal in his eyes. Lawn mowers, food processors, bushwhackers, chainsaws ... Bushroot shuddered.

Darkwing struggled to free himself from the clear prison. "Juan Ducker! You let me out of here or there's going to be real trouble!" Ducker just laughed. Bushroot was just relieved he was no longer laughing at him.  
"I thought you should be asking what my ingenious device does."  
"Obviously something ... not ... very nice and something probably ... very ... dangerous!" Darkwing struggled wildly against the impossible clear walls of his prison. "GET ME OUTTA HERE!" He breathed heavily. He growled and snarled.

Ducker pulled a cell phone from his pocket and concentrated on it for a moment. "Oh, well," he said, looking back at his prisoner, "as entertaining as watching you go mad is, let's see what this unit actually does, shall we?"

"Uh, really, lets not, I don't want to see him any worse than this." Bushroot interjected.

"Neither do I." Megavolt agreed with him. In Bushroot's opinion, Darkwing looked way too unhealthy in that container, prowling and running at the sides, a rabid animal already. Bushroot found himself quivering.  
"Sympathy?"  
"No, cowardice. It's really just a case of self-preservation."  
"I'll say." Megavolt agreed, "Darkwing goes boom, we'll be the ones that get fried." Ducker pocketed the phone again and pulled the huge machine's lever. It whirred centrifugal, the sound of heavy duty electrical surging, and Ducker dragged the lever back up.

"Allow me to introduce you." The spinning container slowed and finally stopped. Darkwing stood up unsteadily, teetering as he faced Ducker through the wall of the container. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were red. "How are you feeling? Like a vampire?" Darkwing let out a very unduck-like screech, and with even more might than he had mustered before, he slammed his fist through the clear wall, smashing a hole in it. He vanished. Bushroot felt a slight rocking and looked up. Above, hanging on the hook line above Megavolt and Bushroot, Darkwing clung like a sparrow on a tree bough.

Megavolt felt a shiver from a draft. Was it a door being opened, maybe? "Er, Bushroot, what's that?" He peered into the darkness. There was someone in here with them.  
"You didn't think I'd come alone, this time, did you?" Ducker snickered, as into the room filed over a dozen bodies. "Meet my slayer friends. I fancy you'll find yourself wanting against the might of their combined crossbows."  
"I rather think," Darkwing said very darkly, "you just wanted them here because you're shooting blanks yourself." He launched himself at Ducker, and grabbing him, disappeared.

"He's taken Ducker!" One of the people down below shouted in a British accent, all the slayers began twisting about, looking for Darkwing Duck to reappear, their crossbows ready to fire. In the next second, Ducker had reappeared in the same location. The slayers fired at the movement. Ducker dropped down quickly out of the way, but Megavolt had the grim satisfaction that he'd gotten hit by at least two arrows.

Darkwing stumbled through the doorway of the Hamil Corp medical offices. 'Stay focused, Darkwing'. The pain may have originated in his stomach but right now it ricocheted across every nerve fibre, and constantly threatened to possess him. He tried to steady himself at the door, black spots threatened to swamp him, No! He had to stay conscious. A sleep walking starving vampire was not a thing he was prepared to become.

"Oh, no, George, it's Darkwing!"  
"Doctor Simon Anatra, quickly!"  
"Grab him!" They hoisted him onto a bed. Darkwing looked blearily around at the small crowd of people all buzzing whitely. White had to be the noisiest colour of all, reflecting all the sounds of all the other colours back into his ears. He tried to focus on the white coats, rather than the white noise of their hearts. Help, he was so hungry. He shut his eyes. Don't listen at all. Think tactical. What needed to be done?

"Ducker's got slayers. There're fourteen of them, the ... warehouse on 47."  
"Right, security's got it, take it easy." Take it easy? Was this guy insane?  
"I'll tell you to take it easy, George!" He snarled and reached out for the irritant, but a mesh of hands took hold him and yanked him back down onto the bed. Black spots circled, threatening. "No, I've got to ... I need to ... stay awake ..."  
"Think about something. Focus in on it, and you can keep yourself alert."  
"Ducker." Darkwing took the advice. "I may have killed him, turning him into target practice like that." Another spasm wrecked him. "I'm stupid, I should've eaten him!"  
"No! You're alright, Darkwing, we'll get this fixed."

One of the people had called an ambulance, and Ducker was being escorted out of the place on a stretcher. While all this was entertaining Ducker's friends, Megavolt, with Bushroot's help, managed free of the wires that kept him dangling. Together, they climbed up to perch on top of the hook. The duo was only a metre above the ground, but they did not feel like joining the madness down below. The door closed again and the noise of the ambulance disappeared into the distance.

The people stood uneasily around. "So," Megavolt listened to their conversation now as he precariously balanced and rubbed his sore wrists, "what do we do about Darkwing Duck?" Apparently, they couldn't care less about the two super villains in the room with them.  
"I'm not sure whether he'll be coming back."  
"He might."  
"I'm not sure that sapping all his energy was a good idea. They say drained vampires are the worst kind of vampires of all. Basically, what we've got now is a blood-crazed fiend stripped of all reason."  
"Well, sure makes it easier to stake the sod, y'gotta admit that."  
"Besides, Ducker wanted to prove that Darkwing Duck was a vampire. He said the bloody Duck was too ..." The single light above them went out and the room was plunged into darkness.

Megavolt had been a while since getting shorted out, and managed to spark his hands to get some light for the view. In the tiny gloom cast by his fingers, he saw a flurry of movement as the warehouse was filled with black-clothed figures. These new people grabbed the slayers and disappeared off with them. The light above them came back on. And there was no one left in the room but the duo.

"Those were vampires, all of them!" Bushroot announced like he'd run a chemistry analysis and came up with the result. "I didn't know there were so many in St Canard."  
"I kinda thought one was enough." Megavolt wasn't interested in Bushroot's vampire analysis. He reviewed the empty room, feeling more confident in the absence of enemies. "I wanna take a look at the computer on this baby." Megavolt jumped down off the hook.

When he stood up to face the machine, he found three white lab coated people already milling around it; two rats and a duck. "Where in the Edison did you come from?" He cursed at them, and was rewarded by being stubbornly ignored by these guys as well. Megavolt looked at his fingers. Once upon a time, he was taken to be a legitimate threat. But these people made him feel like he was back in high school.  
"Suppose we could try to reverse the suction ..."  
"You got him, George?" Megavolt spun around at a sudden compression of air behind him.  
"Yeah, Simon ..." George the rat said, less than certain, appearing with two other white coated ducks.

With a bit of effort, they shoved Darkwing back into the container.  
"Hey!" Darkwing Duck growled at them. One of the lab coats pulled the second lever. Instead of spinning around, however, the whole unit simply shorted out. Megavolt flinched. He hated it when machines died like this. He stepped closer to the white coated people around the machine. But he couldn't get near enough to discover what went wrong. Then Darkwing Duck left the container again.

"Hold on." One of the white coats dug into the machinery and pulled out a huge battery looking object. "Got it." It glowed in an ethereal green colour.  
"That's great, except the machine isn't working." Darkwing muttered. Then he took a step back. "Oh, wait a minute!" Without another second the remaining five jumped him. The one holding the battery shoved it into Megavolt's arms and pulled out something from her pocket that looked like a fencing sword but without a handle. "Stop, stop!" A look of abject horror was on Darkwing's face. He struggled against the combined force of the group.

"What are you going to do with ..." Bushroot hesitated, realising that he was being ignored. The woman thrust the sword through Darkwing, already defenseless in the hold of all the others. The unstoppable crime fighter slumped, inert to the ground. Bushroot clasped his beak, suppressing a shriek of horror.

To Bushroot, Darkwing Duck was a pain and a menace. The plant-duck expected that one day, maybe Negaduck would finish him, but to watch a bunch of simple lab coated technicians take him down? He shuddered, remembering these guys used to attack him. Worse still, he even used to be one himself. Worse even yet, they just killed one of the very few people who ever really spoke to Bushroot. Even if he was spoiling things all the time, at least he was occasional company.

Megavolt considered the battery. It glowed like any luminary. He sighed, if only civilisation understood that what they were doing was enslavement, maybe then they wouldn't treat the luminaries so badly.  
"Huh, good aim, Karen." The white coats took a breath of relief.  
"Thanks." Karen grabbed the battery from Megavolt's fingers.  
"Hey!" Megavolt snapped, and then put his hands to his hips. "You know it took five of you guys to stop him?" Megavolt analysed aloud. He was a little frustrated with having all that power so casually grabbed from his hold. "And you want to put this back into him?" Karen hesitated.  
"What do you expect? We're scientists, not security guards."  
"Yeah, okay then. So how many of them would it take to hold Darkwing Duck down?"

"Megs, I don't think it really matters." Bushroot answered in a maudlin voice. Megavolt lowered his gaze to watch Bushroot kneeling down beside Darkwing. The straight metal piece stuck out of his chest, somewhat jarring to the view. Megavolt's plant-duck companion checked Darkwing's pulse and then he held his leafy hand over his beak. Megavolt was confused by the distant expression of his friend as he looked back at him. "He's not going anywhere now."

"Ahem?" One of the scientists physically picked the plant-duck up and transplanted him next to Megavolt. All these random people just blended together into one single annoyance for Megavolt. He'd never been a people person; it was not his strong point. And for that over-lining reason, this was where his memory failed him the most often.

Bushroot didn't need to stick around here, but his scientific mind was endlessly curious. As to what these people would do next. Also, the sooner he left, the sooner he would find himself back at the greenhouse. Only this time, Darkwing Duck wouldn't be coming around to interfere and break up the period of exile. He fought back another surge of self-pity.

Karen handed the battery to one of the others, who cracked the side of it on the vertical piece of metal. The thing sizzled, and the green energy arced fiercely around the metal, down into the inanimate body of the crime fighter."That's the last of it." Simon who seemed to be in charge grabbed the end of the metal fragment. "Everyone stand back."  
"Oh, man, I really hate this part."  
"Have you done this before, May?"  
"A few times. Just don't pay attention to whatever he says."  
"Alright, what are you talking about?" Bushroot began. "Physiologically, he's a duck, not a plant, and you sta-..." Simon pulled the metal from Darkwing's chest and he jumped up, scattering the white coats like pigeons.

Megavolt gulped. The instant the piece of metal was separate from Darkwing he was very alive, very quickly. Megavolt had to remember that for next time.  
"What's the big idea?" Darkwing Duck thundered at them all. "With friends like you ..."  
"I think we should get you looked at by the specialist."  
"Yeah, those things don't do too well with the mental pathways sometimes."  
"It's true, my cousin went through this sort of thing once, and she ..."  
"Get outta here! All of you, out, out, out!" He gestured loudly, rounding on them. Two of them disappeared like he asked, the rest retracted to a safer distance.

Darkwing then turned his anger on the piece of metal that'd had him helpless. He grabbed it from the ground, and threw it into the opposite direction of Ducker's blender. It hit the distant wall with a spark.  
'Wait a minute.' Megavolt double checked his thinking. 'Walls don't spark...' "Look out!" Bushroot and Megavolt dived to the ground as both the hook and the claw hand flew across the room and smashed into Ducker's device. It sizzled and exploded. It was now a burning heap of plastic and circuits. "I don't get anything out of it, not fair." Megavolt moaned as he looked up at the technology he no longer had a chance of investigating.

A dark, sullen voice spoke over their heads. "How about ... your life?" Megavolt looked up from the ground and found Darkwing towered over them with a menacing glare in his eyes. "Or, on the other hand ... if you care to stay for dinner ..." He licked his beak. "I'll be more than happy to accommodate."

"No, no, no, that first option sounds good." Bushroot's voice was tense as he dragged Megavolt to a stand and further away from Darkwing.  
"I thought so." Darkwing Duck disappeared into the darkness. Megavolt and Bushroot raced out of the warehouse, completely rattled.

_Moral/Overview: How lonely would life be if you didn't even have a tormentor for company? - _Star Trek, "Dagger of the Mind".


	5. Faith and Monsters

**Chapter 11: Faith and Monsters**

* * *

By the time Darkwing Duck got back to his lair, he had gotten over his fright and his anger. That now left simple horror. What a monster he was. Ducker's infernal contraption had proved it. Darkwing knew he was a monster, because his stomach was still rebelling at his final decision to retreat.

He went to the kitchenette and grabbed a bottle of super-juice from the fridge. He looked at the label, considering the ridiculousness of this habit. Just because he was hungry, didn't mean he needed food. He knew that, yet each time he got angry, he still reached for the fridge handle. And each time, it never solved the problem. He shrugged, and undid the lid, chugging down the juice anyway. He rinsed the empty bottle out in the sink. At least now there was no excuse. The hunger was all in his mind. It was pathetic to continue pandering to a non-existent problem.

* * *

Darkwing tower was silent without Launchpad, vast and empty without the warmth and advice of his regular companion. The moderately-sized mallard slowly trekked across the cold cement floor to his changing area. Darkwing had gone to that warehouse with the intent to help them, but then he'd nearly finished the duo off for himself? Some hero he was! Gosalyn was right, he shouldn't have gone out.

He hung the cape up, changing into his normal green and pale pink clothes behind the screen. He stared at the black and grey outfit on the hook. It wasn't purple anymore. It hadn't been for a long while. Didn't that mean something?

Black ... and dangerous. But should he never go out again?

He straightened the cape absentmindedly on its hook. 'Yeh do get pretty heated sometimes ...' Drake heard Launchpad's voice of warning in his head. It was true. Somehow, becoming a vampire just made his temper that much worse.

He closed his eyes, recalling how his anger had escaped his self control. "No, be honest. LP was right," he reasoned. People handled health problems like this every day and carried on relatively normal lives. No, the failing was within him. He swung about and faced the vacant full length mirror, contemplating the person that no longer reflected. "You, Drake Mallard, have an explosive personality." He turned away. And it had come too close this time.

* * *

Drake got home and found Gosalyn asleep on the lounge. He came towards her. The very sight of her swept his personal troubles away.  
"My little angel." Her eyes flickered groggily.  
"Darkwing Duck?" She mumbled up at him, still mostly asleep.  
'What is that?' He leaned over her and pulled the piece of paper from her grasp. It was Ducker's note. He discarded the crumpled paper on the coffee table. "Come on, kiddo." He drew her into his arms and took her up the stairs, tucking her into her bed where she belonged.

* * *

_Morning_

"So? What happened?" Gosalyn looked up as her father approached her at the breakfast table.  
"Amazingly, nobody ended up dying." He replied briefly and reached into the fridge for one of the bottles of super-tomato juice.

Gosalyn put her empty bowl in the sink and rinsed it out. "Then why are you so upset?" She turned around and looked up at him. "It's not such a big deal, dad." Gosalyn tried to cheer him up. "If nobody got hurt that's gotta be a plus. And I'm so glad that you ..." She studied his expression, no doubt it looked as grim as he felt. "You'd better tell me what happened properly or so help me. I'm going to keep bugging you about it and I won't get to school."  
Her father sighed, covering his eyes for a moment in resignation. Drake was not prepared to argue with her logic today. "Yeah, I know." He finished the juice and followed her into the lounge room.

Gosalyn took in the story with rapt attention. He always knew his adopted daughter was spirited and bright, but Drake never fully realised what his child was capable of until now. As she sat beside him on the lounge he got feedback from her delta waves. It was clear to him from the general buzzing of mental activity that she was actively hiding her marked intelligence from her school teachers.

Once he'd finished telling her his final regrets, Gosalyn turned away from him with her own mixed emotions. After a moment, she spoke up in a clear voice, looking directly in front of her, her hands on her knees. "I'm sure having a piece of metal stabbed through the heart would kill you just as well as the next non-vampire person."  
"Thanks for the prognosis, doctor Gos."  
"But you didn't need superpowers before, remember? Nothing stopped you then. Not a radioactive spider bite. Not two broken legs."  
"Yeah, but this Juan Ducker ... I mean, the way I exploded at them all, he might be right after all and ..."

"Juan Ducker? Right? Alright, time out!" Gosalyn gestured wildly, making a T sign with her hands. Furiously indignant, she stormed over to the television cabinet and pulled out a DVD. She slotted it into the player and turned on the set. In a few more moments, she'd skipped forwards through the recording and pressed play.

_"And the citizens of St Canard can breathe easier, knowing that these criminals are off the streets, thanks to Darkwing Duck and the city's police."_

She stopped the machine and faced him, tapping her foot, her arms crossed. "My dad is Darkwing Duck, not Darkwing Demon. Never was, never will be. Got it?" Drake smiled weakly at Gosalyn, and she reached up and gave him a fierce hug. "I dunno where your faith in yourself went, dad, but I still believe in you. I know you're a good person."

Drake's heart ached. Now he understood; he had to stick it out for Gosalyn's sake. "Maybe I should take Karen's suggestion and get a check up?"  
"Yeah, and then get back on the street and do your job." She raced to the entrance hall and grabbed her backpack.  
"Hold on!" He jumped up, "I'm coming with you."

* * *

_Evening_

Drake stepped out of the lift onto the medical X level of the St Canard Hamil Corp offices. He dodged past Ellen the receptionist, too afraid to face her. He walked along the corridors, zeroing in his quarry's white noise.  
"Karen." He stood at the doorway to her lab.  
The research scientist slowly looked up from her lab table. "Oh, Drake. How are you doing?" The usual bubble was slightly flat in her voice.

He coughed, struggling once again with the self-same fear of failure that fueled both his underlying temper and his resolution to become a crime fighter. "I ... am sorry for how I acted last night." He turned quickly away from her, the embarrassment was raw. He dared not let it cut so deep and connect to that childhood fear.  
"Thank you, I appreciate that." She responded softly. "And I know you didn't mean it. Nobody likes to be out of control."

He turned back to her. "Or having their control taken away from them." She fixed her eyes on him for a long moment, making him uneasy. "What?"  
She coughed politely. "You didn't come here to get your head checked?" She sat back in her chair. "I mean: make sure your brain's not all skewed from having your consciousness split away from your body?"  
"Well, actually I did." Although Drake would never have put it quite so bluntly...  
"I'll get you booked for the specialist as soon as possible." She said, standing up.

"When do you think I can see him?"  
"Well, I think he's in Cardiff at the moment. You know, we've only got one of these in the whole of Hamil Corporation, so I'll have to check with Ellen about his timetable." She pushed past him and headed out to talk to the receptionist.  
"Thank you, Karen." He said as she disappeared down the corridor. He drew a breath of relief. Getting an apology out of his beak was such a terribly hard but necessary thing.

Karen returned presently. "About an hour, he'll come right round for you. You can pop out if you like, just be back here in fifty minutes."  
"Pop out." Drake grinned, "Gives a new meaning to that phrase." He translocated back home, aiming for the laundry.

* * *

_Fifty _five _minutes later..._

Drake appeared in front of medical reception. The translocation effect had turned his normal clothes to black and grey. "Sorry I'm a bit late, Ellen. I had a bit of trouble at home."  
"You're here to see Master Juck?"

"Yes, he is."  
Drake spun around at the peculiar voice, and froze in shock. The rusty male voice came from a short creature in a brown monk's cloak holding a staff. A small, claw like hand gripped the staff, which was a golden bronze and was just a little bit taller than the creature. Looking up at Drake was a grizzly sort of face with eyes that shone yellow flecked with black. Adding to the effect, he had long pointed ears that had a sort of droop to them.

The delta waves gave Drake an impression of an inquisitive and intelligent individual, but little in the way of actual emotion. The creature's heart beats were steady but a lot more rapid than what Drake had come to expect from a normal person.  
"Drake Mallard," Ellen the receptionist announced, "I'd like to introduce Master Juck."  
"I beg your pardon." Drake decided to apologise ahead of schedule.  
"I'm an Ergowth." Juck narrowed his eyes. "My species are not like other demons, so please cast that prejudice aside. And I am not a goblin; no Ergowth in history was ever so selfish and capitalist as such a creature."

Drake's brain whirled. Demons were something edible. Intelligent sociable demons on the other hand ... He glared at Ellen. Nobody had cared to mention anything about ... that.

Drake's mind flashed back to the previous night. He had been so angry at Megavolt for seeing his exposed vulnerabilities. The look on Bushroot's face as the plant-duck rescued the innocent Megavolt from his wrath sent a shockwave of guilt to meet up with him once the anger had dissipated. Drake covered his face as the memory of the Fearsome two resurfaced in its entirety, complete with heartbeats that even now had him struggling against the temptation to track down the source.

Megavolt and Bushroot were intelligent and they weren't even demons. For all they'd done, they still didn't deserve to be eaten. But even with this logic to help him, he couldn't disconnect his hunger from the memory of their heartbeats. 'Please, oh, please. Don't let me become this.'

Juck tapped the bottom end of the staff on the floor, harrumphing. Drake spun around. "This will just not do. Ellen, which room?"  
"Your usual, master Juck."  
"Oh, good." Juck trotted on down the corridor. "Come along, Darkwing." Drake looked down at his day clothes, they'd gone grayscale after he'd translocated, but they were still his day clothes. This guy was obviously somebody that couldn't be messed with. Drake followed the Ergowth into the small consultation room. He shut the door and sat down.

Juck rested the staff on the edge of the table. He got up onto the chair and looked at the computer, tapping queries into it. After a moment he sat back and turned to Drake.  
"Now, Drake, you were turned not long ago. Who helped you adjust?"  
"Lawrence Eider."  
"Tsk, that boy?" He muttered to himself.  
"He's grown up now." Drake found himself arguing in Eider's defense.  
"Oh, yes. Of course. Your young age so quickly, it is hard to keep up with them."  
Drake sighed, thinking back to Gosalyn. It had taken all his willpower to not bring her along to this as she had demanded.

"That's much better."  
Drake blinked back into the present, Juck was watching him intently. "You can read delta waves?"  
"That's child's play." Juck took his staff back in his hand. "Hum, I think I need to explain Necromancy to you."  
"What?" Drake jumped out of the chair. Running was a viable option in his mind. "I'm not dead!"

"Sit down."  
Drake considered his alternatives and decided to stay standing.  
"You've just been through what's termed a reset point, Drake. How does it take your fancy that a good number of connections in your brain may have reconnected wrongly?"  
"You're exaggerating."  
"I am not. I have treated a person who'd been a doctor for two hundred years. He'd been in a fight when the reset point had happened. After this he could no longer do an ounce of healing."

Drake sat down thinking of what a horrific story that was. It was even worse to think that might have happened to him last night. "You helped him?" Juck nodded. "But that was an obvious problem."  
"Amusing, considering that your mind works better with the smaller details and ignores the obvious."

Juck's eyes were quizzical as he reviewed Drake. "To detect such a problem, one can start with the circumstances surrounding the incident."  
Drake shook away from the idea of revisiting the nightmare again.  
"Very well. What is the single worst thing about this experience that haunts you?"

Drake had made his peace with Karen and that only left one thing stuck on repeat in his mind. He couldn't even voice this terrifying memory that looped wordlessly and endlessly in his head. The evil thought that had connected with such an innocent sound. Even now, the temptation continued to play on him. He groaned, wrapping his arms around himself. How powerless was he to delete it from his brain?

"Megavolt's heartbeats." The Ergowth Necromancer answered for him. "Bet he would've tasted nice."  
"I know Megs; I've stopped his crimes for years ..."  
"A criminal? Then, I must ask you, would he taste like an evil person might?"

Drake swallowed, his throat had constricted. He tried hard not to think about the answer to that one. "Please," he croaked, "are you going to help me or not?"  
"Good! I will." Juck stepped down from the chair and grasped the staff. The Necromancer began incanting, his eyes turning black. Then he pointed the staff at Drake. It felt like an explosion inside Drake's mind. He lost all sensation of his body, just like it had happened a day ago. But this time, the Necromancer was in control.

* * *

Drake jumped out of the chair the instant control came back to him. "I can't believe I just trusted you, I have no idea how you feel. You could've just ..." Drake's beak went dry. "Thanks for not killing me."  
"I couldn't do that. I know how hard you work to keep yourself from killing innocent people. It should just be a little easier now that you're working properly." Juck passed him and opened the door. As Drake stood there, he felt somewhat insignificant, and ... wait, was that a threat? He stepped out throught the doorway to consider Juck properly. He took a few paces and caught up with him.

"Thank you, master Juck." Juck turned to him, an eyebrow cocked. "I'd like to consider you my friend."  
"Oh? Do I look like I need a friend?"  
"You don't like bad guys. And I catch bad guys." Also, he didn't grate on Drake's nerves. That definitely had to be a plus.  
Juck cracked a sharp toothy grin. "Of course. But you still have things to learn, young Mallard. And I'm afraid I can't help you with that."

_

* * *

_

Moral/Overview: "Ask and you shall receive." - Unknown origin. No one exists perfectly well in isolation: Interdependence is a key function in a working social system.


	6. Monsters

_A/N: One of my alll time favourite songs: _Johnny B. Goode_. If you could only hear it the way I imagine it with a proper orchestral sound. A simple _Rock and Roll _song you may think, but the moral of it is so exemplary that it is entirely worthy of an orchestra._

_Treat all people as equal. Everybody, everywhere; whatever their background they are good at something. Intelligence is irrelevant because we are all intelligent in some way or another. Never discount anyone that you meet. Together we are all useful in making society work. _

_Thank you, Chuck Berry._

**

* * *

**

Chapter 12: Monsters

* * *

_The Second Night_

Drake returned to Darkwing Tower at sunset. Whatever Juck had done, Drake felt newly empowered. He was ready to take on the criminal element. And he had confidence within himself that he wouldn't be eating anybody. He changed into the Darkwing Duck costume and looked at the vacant mirror, smiling. Especially not his old high school buddy. He snatched an apple from the bowl on the way to the rat-catcher for good measure. There was only one way to test it.

* * *

Darkwing Duck coasted the rat-catcher to a stop as he heard someone climbing down a fire exit. He walked to the base of the stairwell and waited. The large, muscular hooligan landed on the ground with a heavy thump, a small sack of valuables obviously weighing him down. By his build, he was clearly an athletic nut.

"You could stand to lose some weight." Darkwing Duck considered the sack of valuables. "Oh, and I'm Darkwing Duck."  
The criminal was dumbstruck for a moment, then he turned and pelted down the alleyway, a wave of fear washed towards Darkwing as he stood calmly, watching the criminal high tail.  
"Delicious." He began to run after him.

Darkwing got to the end of the alleyway, the hooligan was just turning onto the street.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night." He proclaimed a pace away.

Shocked, the hooligan turned around, dropping the sack. He was truly terrified of the crime fighter. "Nobody can run that fast." The hooligan back stepped, his hands nervously at his mouth.  
Darkwing Duck advanced on him. "You're going to jail, Jock."

"Hi, this is Raul Rhode coming live to you from the streets of St Canard."

Darkwing had the hooligan in his grip, when a bright light shone in his face.  
"What the ...?"  
"Darkwing Duck, the monstrous terror of the night, once again is ..."  
"I beg your pardon?" Darkwing squawked, "This man is a criminal! He pointed to the bag of jewelry and DVDs discarded to the side. "And I'm ..." Darkwing was transfixed by the idea. He threw the hooligan at a lamppost nearby. "The criminal undertow of St Canard would drag the city into chaos without ..."

"There you have it folks, Darkwing Duck believes that the official protection officers of the city cannot manage the criminal element." By the way he acted, as if on a game show, this guy clearly loved the sound of his own voice.  
"Oh, no, not at all. In fact, I'll defer to the public's opinion on the matter right now." Darkwing crossed his arms. "As of now, I will take a holiday. Then we shall see the facts of the matter in a more realistic light."

* * *

Launchpad slammed the door behind him, letting his bags drop onto the floor. "Hi, I'm back." Gosalyn ran down from her room upstairs and grinned up at her friend, giving him a quick hug.  
"Glad to see you, Launchpad."  
"Did I miss anything?"  
"Oh, the usual, dad having another one of his panic attacks. But he was much better tonight."  
"Oh, er, he's not in?" Launchpad looked at the clock. Three to seven. "Oops, it took a bit longer to get back from Duckberg than I thought. Well ... he's out a bit early."  
"He said he was feeling really good." Gosalyn replied. "He couldn't wait for you, and he'd catch up with you a bit later." She pulled a face. "And he still won't raise my allowance."

"Come on, Gosalyn," came his voice, making her jump, "we're taking a holiday. I need you to go pack." Gosalyn and Launchpad spun around as Drake stood in the kitchen doorway. "Hi, Launchpad. Sorry about this. Right now, young lady." Gosalyn snapped her beak shut from gaping at her father, and raced up the stairs.

Drake snatched up the phone and dialed. "This'll just take a couple minutes, won't you get yourself a cocoa, LP? Hi, Morgana?"  
Launchpad shrugged and wandered into the kitchen. On a hunch, he turned on the radio, sitting on top of the fridge. The news report came on, and he listened in.

* * *

Drake stepped back into the kitchen with a look of disappointment as he contemplated the kitchen table. "It was a slim chance that she could break away from the restaurant at such short notice, but it was worth a shot. Good to have you back, LP." The radio finished talking about football and moved to the weather report. Tomorrow promised a typical late summer's day.

Launchpad jumped on the opportunity to have a say on the matter. "DW, you can't just leave ..."  
DW glanced at him before turning away. "If I'm a monster, LP, then I'm part of the problem." Drake walked up the stairs. He turned for a moment halfway up. "And I'm loathed to be that."  
Launchpad followed him. "But to actually leave St Canard?" Drake got to the landing and turned, walking on down the corridor.

"I can't stay. As soon as there's a purse being snatched, I'll have broken my promise." Drake turned the corner into his bedroom and hauled out his suitcase from the closet.  
"Purse snatching is fine, I can handle that, but what if something really bad happens?"  
"Well, you stay here and keep an eye on things. Don't interfere, just report back to me." Drake delved his hand into his pocket and held up his cell phone to illustrate before putting it back. Then he handed his keys over to Launchpad.

Drake then began loading his suitcase. Launchpad didn't know if there was much else to say. Gosalyn piped up from behind him, her head in the doorway.  
"Dad, it's great that we're going on a holiday, but ..."  
"Swimming gear and ski gear. Hiking outfits too." Gosalyn's face cleared.  
"Gotcha. Thanks." She disappeared back out of the doorway.  
"And don't forget your hat!" There was a moment when nobody said anything and Drake quietly began piling clothes into his suitcase.

* * *

Launchpad was newly aware of the faint music wafting up from the kitchen.

_#He never ever learnt to read or write so well#_  
_#But he could play a guitar just like ah-ringin' a bell#_

"So, where are yeh going, anyways?"  
"Australia. It's not my first choice, but I have Gosalyn to think of."  
"What does Eider have to say about this? Did you check with him?"  
"He called me back at Darkwing Tower. He doesn't like it either, but I refuse to be called a monster without a proper review."

"Mission accomplished so far." Launchpad watched as Drake struggled to close the overloaded suitcase and had to sit on it before he got it under control. "This stunt will get plenty of reviews. I'm just afraid it's gonna be the criminals doing the voting."

"Then if they're smart enough, they'll lay low for the next two weeks and do me out of a job."  
Launchpad felt his eyes cross for a moment, trying to make sense of DW's impossible Tweedle-dee-dum logic. "Sure ... I guess?"  
"Ready, Gosalyn?"  
"All set, dad!"

Launchpad gulped, his fingers closed tightly around the keys. If somehow Drake really convinced himself that he was a monster, it could go very badly. For DW without the job he was born to do, and the citizens of St Canard for being left in the hands of the criminal element. He walked out into the corridor.  
"Don't worry, LP, it'll work. My phone is set to roaming." Drake took Gosalyn's hand, then they and the two large suitcases vanished from the corridor.

_

* * *

_

A scarce time later...

"What should we do with them, boss?" In his makeshift office, Steelbeak turned back to his henchman. The last few months had been insane; he'd been chasing down postal workers and store clerks, then he'd been standing around numbly amidst a conundrum of microscopic proportions. Now all this just took a downward spiral with the success of the experiment he'd thought up personally. Sure, he didn't have to chase another oblivious vampire, but...  
"Just ... put them in their bunks."  
"But ain't they dead? I cain't feel no pulse or nothin'."  
"No, they're not dead, and don't question orders."  
"No, sir! Of course, sir, right away."  
"And could you please bring in the three vampires we've got at the moment?"  
"Yes sir."

"Look, I appreciate you boys bein' hungry an' all." Steelbeak calmly rounded on the results of the experiments.  
"Well, headquarters want vampire operatives, so what's the harm?" Quandry, with the most nights up his sleeve crossed his arms.  
"You have no idea how hungry I was." John complained, his second night as a vampire.  
"Me too." Howard said in a high pitched voice. He was a hulking eggman who'd been dinner for the other two just the night before.

"I think I have all the evidence I need." Steelbeak countered. "Look, tomorrow night, why don't you boys go out for dinner? Terrify the peasant folk of St Canard, for a change?"  
"Sure, okay. That suits me fine." Quandry turned on his heel. "Coming, boys?" They all walked out on Steelbeak before he had a chance to officially dismiss them. John shut the door.

"Euston, I think we have a problem." Steelbeak said to himself as he sank down into his office chair. He had a really bad feeling in his gut as he pulled out his cell phone.  
"Is there another problem with the experiments, agent Steelbeak?"  
"Uh, no, no, no problems, sir." Steelbeak felt himself sweating. "I'm just reporting in, saying we definitely have vampire operatives now."  
"Excellent. We will make good use of this. Good job, agent Steelbeak." They rang off.  
"Oi!" Steelbeak freaked out at the dead line. "You're supposed to get them out of my hair!"

* * *

_Moral/Overview: History is plagued with the unfortunate results of judgments made too swift, decisions too deftly made. Will our irrational fears drive us to ultimate extinction?_


	7. Holiday

___A/N: _My world, my enthusiasm. Stay tuned for Act 3!

**

* * *

**

**Holiday**

* * *

_14 hours later in Australia _moments _after Launchpad watched Drake and Gosalyn leave 14 hours earlier ..._

Juan Ducker stretched his weary body and went for a walk to the shopping centre that was just opening up for the day. The sun was shining bright and it promised to be a fine late winter's day.

He'd just managed to get out of the way of those idiot slayers' crossfire. They'd all be vampires by now, he acknowledged with a twinge of regret. While he had had some backup, Darkwing had surprised him with his own backup. For a lone vampire, he was able to call in help very quickly.

Curse that Darkwing Duck. Now here Ducker was, living out of a run down motel on the other side of the world, still recovering from his injuries, and so far he didn't have one green recruit. The shopping centre gleamed brightly, even at this hour there were people rushing about. He shook his head, they had no idea. He missed the old shops, the old street lamps of home. Everything here was wide and vast. These people loved their ... space. He spied a bookstore, and sifted through the haphazard crowd to take shelter.

The last time he'd been in a bookstore ... it had looked very different. He wandered between the rows of shelves. Bibliographies were interesting, but he did not know these authors. Travel books, children's fiction, and then his eyes fell on a cupboard filled with black paperbacks. There was a book on a stand, the latest title in a series. He picked up a copy, and flicked through it.

"Fools!" He snarled, and dumped the book down. He charged out of the store, only to find on the other side of the arcade a teen clothes store, with slogans printed garish on black, red and white shirts. "All of you!"

* * *

_At the exact same time in Australia at the exact same time..._

Drake and Gosalyn appeared in the foyer of an ordinary looking smallish reception area. "Thanks for letting us stay here, Ferny." Gosalyn peered at the clock on the wall, then out the window at the bright sunny day. Ten past nine in the morning? Well, this was one way of never having to go to bed.

"Oh, no problems, Darkwing mate. We're all friends here." The beefy vampire shook Drake's hand.  
"Uh, it's just Drake at the moment."  
"Oh, sure." He led Drake and Gosalyn through the summery, palm tree decorated resort with their large bags under each arm. "This is your unit. Self contained, but we do have a restaurant in the administration block. If you wanna take my advice, you should check out the lunchtime buffet. Chef's potato salad is the best I've ever tasted. He only uses the freshest ingredients, of course."  
"Er, thanks for the advice."

Drake felt very comfortable here, as they settled into the rooms. Gosalyn dove into her suitcase and raced to the ensuite.  
She emerged in her swimsuit. "I'm going to check out that swimming pool I saw on the way in."  
"Sounds like a perfect idea. But aren't you forgetting something?" He threw her a bottle of sunscreen.  
"Oh ... right." She lathered herself up and disappeared out the doorway. Good girl, he smiled.

* * *

It was getting on dusk, but Gosalyn was already starving after her afternoon nap, so they headed out. A couple of sparkly, scarcely dressed women were aiming at the same restaurant. Drake opened the door and let them and Gosalyn through. He followed Gosalyn and they were presently ushered to a table.  
"This seems very posh, maybe we should'a dressed better." Gosalyn made a comment, gazing in wonder at the decor. Then she spotted a group of people sitting in a corner dressed in cotton T-shirts and worn jeans ... "Then again." She giggled. "We do fit right in with everyone else."

Drake was presented with a menu. He studied it for a moment. "I think I've lost my appetite." He said, white-faced.  
"Well, I haven't. I'm starving and I want some meat. I'm not a vampire, after all."

"Not yet."  
Drake gulped, staring over across the room at the person who'd said that.  
"What's the matter, dad?"  
"Ducker. Behind you. And he recognises me."  
Gosalyn twisted in her chair. "Alright! That does it!" She marched over through the crowded room, Drake gripped the table fiercely. 'Don't you dare touch her.' He was coiled, ready. His nerves were on fire.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you leave my dad alone!" Ducker looked down with some bleak curiosity.  
"You're adopted, aren't you? Tell me, what happened to your parents?"  
"They died in a ... my grandfather was ..."  
"What happened to him?"  
"A ... he was killed. That's why I'm not going to let you ..." Drake was behind her and had her up in his arms in a moment.  
"Common decent folk don't indulge in violent discourse." He admonished Ducker, more for the thoughts in his head than his actual words. "Come on, we'll find another restaurant, this city is packed with them."

Drake set her down on the pavement outside the restaurant. "Gosalyn, I know you're taking it personally ..." The normally sensible child was an emotional live-wire. He had to draw on his training to keep himself aloof.  
"Well, it is personal! He can't just find anybody to pick on, it has to be you. All he wants to do is kill you." There was a quiver in her voice.

A car pulled up to the curb. "Drakey, mate." This would have been unusual in a foreign city, except for the fact that these people were vampires and once they had a lock, could find you at will.  
"Oh, sorry, Ferny." The vampire jumped out of the car and had surrounded them with his burly self. "We'll have to change hotels." Ferny looked back into the windows of the restaurant.  
"Nah, she'll be right." He ushered them into the car, and sat down next to them. "After all, we've got to stick together. What'd'ya reckon, Tepi?"  
"Ah, ver-ry much so." The driver of the car said in yet another foreign accent. Drake was mildly intrigued at this city; every second person came from somewhere else originally.

* * *

_Shortly after ..._

Drake was pacing in the hotel reception, feeling very skitterish about the situation.  
"We've led Ducker right here." He paced the room. "He knows Ferny, he knows Tepi. Heck, with hardly any effort, he'll be able to dig out our names from the St Canard school registry and our address. We'll have to move."

"Where to? Tibet?" Gosalyn snorted.

"Yeah, that's a great idea. The Tibetan monks are very insightful. They'll train you in purifying your motivations and attitudes." Gosalyn swallowed, mentally slapping herself. This was not a subject to take on a light note. Drake Mallard had spent years with the Tibetan monks, and it was not an idle threat for him to go back there. From now on, she resolved to keep her big beak shut on the subject.

* * *

Juan Ducker was back at his motel room, having abandoned the restaurant before his ordered food had arrived. To fancy that that Darkwing Duck had friends even here in Australia? Vampire friends? Now that was too much, and Ducker was not ready for another confrontation. He finished packing. If Darkwing was here, then he was not in St Canard. And that sounded just the place to get back to. He pulled out a packet of dried Wolf's Bane and scattered some of the tiny leaf fragments about the room.

It wouldn't stop Darkwing Duck, but it would at least confuse anyone else from getting his scent. He put some in his hands and rubbed it into his feathers. That'll do the trick. He shoved the rest of the satchel into his suitcase and picked it up. He was out of here the instant the next plane arrived for St Canard.

* * *

"This is quite a grave situation indeed." Drake and Gosalyn turned to see Malduck enter the room.  
"What brings you to Australia?"  
"You do." Malduck said with trace annoyance.  
An idea popped into Gosalyn's head. "You could always turn Ducker into a vampire."  
"A man like that doesn't need any more power." Malduck responded severely.  
"So, what then?"  
"He has disappeared from us again." Malduck frowned. "You are the only one that can trace him, Drake. You're the one who has had contact. And he's interested in stopping you at any cost." Drake felt very cold of a sudden, "You must stop him, Darkwing Duck."

Drake's mind was spinning and he began to pace the room again.  
He stopped. "Wait a minute." Malduck crossed her arms, leaning against the receptionist counter, waiting for his brainwave. "He's ... only after me."  
"Well, yes he is after you."  
"Yes, no, I mean, he's not after Gosalyn, or Launchpad, or anyone else. It's just because I'm a vampire, he's just after me."  
"Yes, he has targeted you."  
"But not them, because they're not vampires."

Drake frowned. "I vowed to keep the streets of St Canard safe once." He sighed. "But now I'm the monster they're afraid of. That just proves Ducker's right."  
"Don't say that, dad."  
Drake looked down at Gosalyn. "Gos, we've gone right across the globe, and I still haven't been able to hide."

"Well, I'm glad you realised it, because I wasn't prepared to say it." Malduck patted his shoulder. "I do like you, Drake. I'd like to see you stay alive. But you simply don't ... keep your head down." Drake crossed his arms, inflamed. "Why don't you stay here for a bit longer? Ducker is nowhere around; he's probably already on a plane out of Australia."

"Okay, great!" Gosalyn stepped between them noisily. "Thanks, Malduck, I'm glad that's settled." Gosalyn waited a moment as the woman nodded down at her. "So can we finally please get something to eat now?" Gosalyn grabbed Drake's hand and pulled him out the doorway.

_

* * *

_

Moral/Overview: Just because someone isn't nice to you specifically, doesn't necessarily mean they're a bad person.


End file.
